Turel's Story
by Not there Vorador
Summary: Ever wonder what happened to Turel after Raziel took his little dive? Best pop in and have a look then. First LoK fan fic. Please read and review so I have the encouragement to finish the story off.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: 

Do not own, Do not own.

Am not worthy, Am not worthy.

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The air was hot. Sticky. It smelled of both smoke and death. Sickeningly sweet and delectably noxious. Perfect for the Undead. If a creature puts its mind to something, there are no limits to what it could do...Take the Vampires of Nosgoth; Humans were an annoying pest, so they were contained. The sun scorched their pale flesh, so massive smoke stacks blotted out the offending sun. The very elements were bended to the will of these Dark Gods. Forcefully. But all did not bode well for the Elegant Creatures of the Night. At least one of them was having a hard time sleeping in his bed...

_"Turel, think of what you do! I am your brother! Kain is mad with power, you cannot do this to me..."_

The desperate pleas of a desperate brother. The second born to the Great Kain could still hear his murdered brother's voice in his dreams. Causing him to toss. Squrm. Throw the silky blankets from his body, although he was still asleep. Still caught in his dream...his nightmare.

_"Look at me! Look at what you are doing...r-remember that last battle with the humans from the south? Six hundred years ago? Do you remember, Turel? I saved your life!"_

The walk to the Abyss was long. Longer than it actually was and longer than it would be ever again. Even though , in happier times, it only took about twenty minutes to get from the outter gate of the Sanctuary of the Clans to the cliffs of the Abyss. But the walk that evening felt like two hundred years. His brother, Dumah to his left. His broken brother, Raziel, held up in his arm...Raziel's blood covering his hands.

_"No...Turel! Dumah! Turel, look after my Clan...Look after my Clan!"_

_"Cast him in..."_

The scream that followed would haunt Turel for the rest of his existence. Right until the bitter end of it all. As it echoed through his senses, Turel was snapped from his unconscious state, sitting bolt upright with a gasp. Sweat glistening over his perfect physique. The small amount that had gathered in the hollow of his throat was now rolling down his collar bone. Down over his chest. Down his abdomen. He let the cooling sensation sink in for just a minute as he slowly caught his breath. First it came in short, sharp gasps. Like there was a weight on his chest, stopping him from inflating his lungs all the way. Then as he began to relax, the air came. The light headedness left. And Turel realized it was just a dream. Kind of.

"Again?"

A soft, female voice spoke from beside him. Not on the bed, though. Sitting in a chair beside it. Ornately carved by hand from a very light colored wood. On the back of the chair was Turel's Clan Symbol. Burned in to the wood with the outline of it etched in to make it stand out. The seat part of the chair had a blue velvet cushion. After all, hard wood was not the most comfortable thing to sit on for long periods of time.

"Every night for the past four days, Turel. You must speak with the Master, I don't think you can go on like this."

The voice came from Leith. A female Vampire that Turel had chosen for companionship around three hundred and fifty years ago. For a Vampire she was extremely plain looking; mousey brown hair that was thin. Pin straight. At the moment it was pulled back in to a braid. If it was done tight enough and if she slept on it her plain, straight hair curled a little. But only a little. Leith's eyes, like her hair, were a dull brown. She did not have overly prominent features. Her cheek bones were not high. Lips were not full. Neither was her bust, for that matter. So why did the High Born Turel chose her, above all others? Quite simply, she beat him at chess. Twice. And for once of his intelligence, that was not heard of. So he decided not to let her go. Not a regret since, either.

Turel only looked at her for a moment. His deep green eyes regarding her. How naive she was, for someone so smart. He could not approach Kain about what happened. Next to Raziel, Turel felt he knew Kain best. His tone of voice, after the..event..held its usual authority. However it was laced with something else. Something Turel had trouble picking. Hurt, perhaps? But at what, Turel did not know. Perhaps it was the realization of what he had done. Or perhaps it was just his blind jealousy at Raziel's blasphemy. At any rate, Turel knew to keep the hell out of Kain's way until he was asked for. It felt awkward enough, staying at the Sanctuary instead of returning back to his own Clan Territory. But Kain ordered that all of the Brethren remain until told other wise. Good thing Morlock had things under control back at the Stacks (As his territory was 'affectionately' called).

"Please ready my robes, Leith. I think I'll take a walk."

Yes, it was very early. And were these under any other circumstances, Turel may be pulling the scantly clad vampiress to his bed, as opposed to sending her to get his clothing, but that was the last thing on his mind right now. So much was whirling around in it. Raziel's blood curdling scream. Zephon's snigger from Turel's right. Then the rest was blended together in a mash of colors and sounds. He needed to clear his head. As he heard Leith open a heavy chest in the East corner of the room, Turel stood and walked over to a balcony at the North end of the room. The balcony overlooked beautiful gardens in the centre of the Sanctuary. Roses and Jasmine, mostly. The scent from the flowers mixed with that of the Smoke Stacks. And then with that of the mass grave yard that was ruled over by his youngest brother, Melchiah . It was wondrous.

Turel had this tendency to sleep in the nude. It was just more comfortable for him this way. Things clinging to his body while he was trying to relax was not fun for him. As Leith pulled long, emerald green robes from the chest, she turned to look at him. Stifling a giggle as she saw his rear. Leith carried the robes over to him and paused at his back. The robes in her left hand, she touched his shoulder blade with her right. Softly moving his back hair away from the nape of his neck as she laid light kisses along his skin. This was accompanied with approving sounds from Turel, who leaned his head forward for just a moment, before pulling away and turning to face her with a soft but very tired smile. His longish hair framing his chiseled face. Out of all the Lieutenants Turel had the most prominent bone structure in his face. High, noble cheek bones. Wide jaw. When he was angered, he was most defiantly the most fearsome looking. Good thing it took a lot to get him mad.

"Thank you, Leith. Try and get some sleep, hmm? I think tomorrow is going to be a big day."

Slowly, the now eldest son of Lord Kain pulled on his robes. There were delicate silver symbols embodied down the sleeves and the hem. Some kind of spell. It didn't really matter. Once Turel tied the silver cord around his waist, he ran his hands through his hair to get it the hell out of his face. Leith, once more had to stifle a giggle. As serious as all of this was, she still found Turel cute. And he could not help but smile at her. Deciding to be a bit of a smart arse, he leaned closer to her, pressing his lips to hers softly, as his hand moved behind her and pulled the top ribbon out of her hair. Because she was so caught up with him Leith did not actually notice. Even as he tied his own hair back with it. It was only when he pulled away from her, hair now tied back, that she noticed.

"Hey! Sneaky little sod..I want that back, you know..." Her nose screwed up a little as she scolded him. She even went as far as putting her small hands on her hips, though his back was turned and he was already on his way out the door. Sighing, Leith couldn't do anything but smile, as she walked to their bed and crawled in to catch a few precious hours of sleep. Like Turel had said...the next day was going to be huge. Though neither of them knew just how huge it would be.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer:

Still do not own.

Still am not worthy

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The halls of the Sanctuary were quiet. Not even the guards were talking. The air was thick with tension and anticipation. After all, Raziel's Clan did not know that their Father was dead. And that was something that was weighing heavily on Turel's mind as he headed toward the Clan Meeting Room. His foot steps were heavy and echoed off the stone walls of the corridor. The now Eldest son pinched the bridge of his nose. Some of the Razielum had already come asking questions. If they found out what had happened...well...it would be an issue.

Melchiah's Clan was closest to Raziel's. They were also the weakest. The smallest. And they would be the ones who copped the vengeance of the Razielum. That was something that he and Dumah needed to speak about. Since they were now the eldest, it was their responsibility to look after their younger brother and his clan. So, it was pretty convenient that Dumah was just slipping out of his room as Turel was walking past.

"You can't sleep, either huh?" A nervous laugh came from Turel as Dumah smiled weakly, running a large hand through his messy brown hair. Dumah was of larger stature than Turel. It had not always been so, however. His evolution gave him the gift of amazing strength and superior size. The only downside was that he moved a little slower than the others. But it didn't matter. Each brother had his own strengths and weaknesses. That is what made them unique and most importantly, useful to Kain.

"I did for a while. But this whole Melchiah thing is a bit of a worry, don't you think? I mean...do you think Kain cares?" Dumah folded his arms over his chest as he and Turel walked down the hallway. "I mean...look at what he did to Raziel..."

"What **WE** did to Raziel, you mean." Turel very quickly corrected. He wasn't about to throw the blame. He could have said 'no' if he wanted. But he was too weak. At least that is what he thought about himself. But in saying that, Kain was his Lord. His father. And what if Raziel really had done wrong? And what if Raziel's Clan got wings eventually, too? Would that be bad? And what if-

"Whatever, Turel. The point is, Kain can be a pissy as he wants, but there is a real threat here! I mean, if they take out Melchiah, then Zephon will be no problem. Think about it...if we let this just go, who knows what could happ-"

Foot steps and a certain scent cut Dumah right off. He and Turel froze on the spot as none other than Kain walked around the corner. Wearing baggy black pants with a black robe over the top. It was open. If anyone was more toned than the Brethren, it would be Kain. One of the female vampires once described it like this: "It's like all of the greatest artists in Nosgoth got together and carved him out of marble." Mind you, this got her laughed at. She was right in some ways...but one must always bare in mind, Kain was a sickly green color, he did not clean his claws often and, lets face it, he was a jerk!

For a moment, it seemed like Kain was just going to keep on walking and ignore the both of them, however Turel had never been that lucky. Kain paused, right in front of them. Oddly, he didn't have the Reaver at his side. It was not normal to see Kain without his prized possession. And it also wasn't normal for Kain to let an insult slide. "Pissy, Dumah?" He rose a brow, lips pursed. This never meant anything good. "If I didn't have something I needed you two to do, you would be in for it...follow me," Kain turned on his heel and swept down the corridor, leaving poor Dumah weak at the knees for a moment. Turel rolled his eyes and followed Kain.

The Lord and Master of Nosgoth lead his sons in to the Clan Meeting Room. He strode right over to his throne and sat down. The Reaver was leaned against it. Ah. So that was where it was. His clawed hand grasped the top of it, lifting the Reaver in to his lap, as five figures slowly emerged from the shadows. Turel was not worried. He knew all of their scents..

Morlock moved over to Turel. Dressed in his usual Clan finery. The leather pants. The Turelium Clan Cloke. The ceremonial belt with the golden skull buckle. His broad chest had a large Turelium tattoo on it. Morlock was quite a pretty vampire. Platinum blonde hair. It was short and slicked back. Very sharp blue eyes made him stand out from the crowd. And the fact that he was a decent warrior was just a bonus. Hanging from his belt were two curved daggers. From his left side was a broad sword with a line of gold running down the middle. Across his back was a long bow and some arrows. This is why Turel chose him. Because he was such a good fighter as a human. Little did he know, he copied Kain in that.

"My Lord, do you know what is going on? I was practically dragged here." Morlock muttered to Turel, as Dumah's second in command (a female, no less) took her place at this side. Her name was Na'ak. Ephor, Rahab's second in command stood in Rahab's place, flicking a little dirt from his cloak. Huras, Zephon's second in command, was still doing his cloak up as he moved to Zephon's place. Kran stilled to Melchiah's spot, rubbing his temples. The Melchiahum, other than falling apart, got head aches a lot. There was nothing really good about being a Melchiahum...

"I...I think I have some idea, Morlock. How is everything at home? The fledglings? How is the latest batch? Are they moving on as expected?" Turel was always very fussy with his fledglings. As kind as was, he was known to "accidentally leave the Clan Gates locked" in a rain storm. If they were not keeping up, he was not about to have lazy vampires leeching off the others. It was an effective system. It worked! Before Morlock could answer, the doors were thrown open, and in ambled Rahab, Zephon and Melchiah. All till half asleep. They moved to their respective places, eying Kain. What the hell was this about...?

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I wake you, Zephon?" Kain glared a little as the thinnest of the brother's stiffled a yawn. "Fate forbid I interrupt your beauty sleep for a matter of war." The Ancient rolled his eyes, flicking a strand of his white hair from his face. Zephon cleared his throat, mumbling apologies for a few moments, until Kain held his hand up to silence him.

"Oh shut up, Zephon. Now, I have asked all of you here because there is a growing threat very close to home. The longer we leave this, the worse it will get. It has the potential to wipe out over half of our fighting force. It's lethal. It's angry. And it-"

"You want us to commit genocide." Turel cut in. Screw the fluff. Making it sound righteous was not going to fool him. Kain wanted them to kill off Raziel's Clan.

"Very good, Turel. Very good, indeed. Rumors have come to my ears about them. And it is not good. If Raziel's evolution gave him those...things..." He snarled a little, "...his clan will get them, too. We cannot suffer them to live. I want this done tomorrow night. You will have your best. It will be done quickly and thoroughly. Am I clear?"

Kain's orders were met with silence. It was just shock after shock. Morlock turned to Turel, eyes wide. As if asking 'Can he be serious?'. It was not just a matter of 'go in there and kick some ass!'. Raziel's area was well defended. Getting in there was going to be near impossible. Not to mention their numbers. There were barely any fledglings. They were a tight knit fighting group and a force to be reckoned with. The logistics alone were going to be hell. Let alone actually doing the thing. Turel had no idea that a whole three minutes had passed . Morlock jabbed Turel in the side and cleared his throat a little. Normally it was Raziel who gave them confidence and got them going. Now it was Turel's job. With a heavy sigh, he clapped his hands together. Just once. Just to get their attention. He took a step forward and clicked his neck.

"Alright boys. We need to do this. It's not going to be easy. But lets face it; if they find out Melchiah is gone." The youngest perked up, about to say something, when Turel interjected. "Oh shut up, we all know it's true. Anyway...there is no way we can get in there, take down the elder vampires and make sure none of the younger ones get away. The only way we can do this in one fell swoop is to draw as many of them out as possible. Dumah, Zephon, I want you on this. Send word back to your clans, we need all the male, fit humans that you got..." The two nodded and headed out, followed by their lieutenants. They all knew they didn't have much time to do this, and it went without saying that all of this needed to be done secretly and before dawn.

"Melchiah, Rahab...how many fledglings can you spare?" As Turel carried on with explaining what would be happening, Kain just grinned. He knew he had made the right choice, however now he felt it. As the talking went in to the morning, Kain rose and headed back to his chambers. He had things to attend to before that evening...


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer:

I own nothing BUT the human...or...what's left of him. --; Damn Turel and his Anger Managment Issues...

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It was the simplest of plans. So simple, not even the two hundred humans involved could mess it up. Turel did indeed have his moments of sheer brilliance. So much so, Kain even submitted to the orders given to him! With two hours before things needed to happen, Turel had gathered his brothers in the inner sanctum of the Sanctuary for one final rev-up.

The air hung thickly. To Melchiah, it felt as if he were trying to move through water, so to speak. Not the burning sensation that Vampires normally felt. But the fact that everything seemed slow. It was taking more effort to move his arms. Legs. His mind was clouded with both rage and despair. To him, this whole plan seemed like just an excuse to kill off more of his Clan. But who was he to question anything? A glare was on his face as he pulled up his seat at the table in the middle of the room. He sat before both Turel and Kain. Seriously disrespectful, but at this point in time, Melchiah didn't really give a stuff.

Turel turned from Kain as he saw the youngest sit. Heavily. He didn't have time for this sulking that Melchiah seemed so fond of doing. They were all playing their part. They would all take losses. Turel didn't tell Melchiah this, but Kain was going to bequeath him Raziel's Clan area. But the chances of that were looking slim now.

Moments later, the three other Brethren entered the room. Seeing Melchiah already seated, they assumed it was fine, and took their seats also. Kain rolled his eyes, sitting at the head of the table, while Turel remained standing. Fiddling with a dagger, the now eldest regarded them all. Wondering just what he should say...Raziel's style was very team-orientated. Lots of :

_"Now men, we are in this together. If one of us goes down, we all go down. You watch each other and we never leave anyone behind."_

Should he take that road? Should this be about the whole? Turel opened his mouth to speak, but he was uncertain. And that uncertainty shut him up again. If he was uncertain, then what he was about to say was clearly the wrong thing. The others remained silent. Letting Turel go through whatever process he needed to go through. It was a huge step to everyone; after all, Dumah was actually more suited to leading. Not Turel. So it came as a shock when Kain declared Turel to take Raziel's place. A shock most of all to Turel! He didn't know the first thing about how to get them motivated in to doing the impossible. Raziel had this charisma about him┘.he could talk his brother's in to diving in to the sea if he wanted. He made everything sound righteous. Noble. Even though pretty much nothing they did was that. When it came down to it, the Vampires and humans were the same, in motive; only the vampires were stronger and better at playing God.

The world around Turel melted away slowly. The stone walls, with all of their hand-painted art disappeared. The table with his brothers and Lord disappeared. The floor faded away. All he saw was the dagger in his hand. It was about the length of his forearm, all up. The blade was slightly curved and clearly well used. Blood stained with a few chips in it here and there. Though it was still as sharp now as the day that he made it for himself. The handle was made of stone with worn brown leather wrapped around it tightly, making it easier to grip. This was the first weapon he'd ever made. And the only one that has never broken. And for some reason, this was the small thing that inspired him...

"This is it." He said simply, holding the dagger up. "This is all there is. When we get out there, it is you and your steel. This might possibly be the hardest thing any of us have had to do..." In more ways than one, and they all knew it. "...but when we get down to it we are alone. If one of you messes up, nobody is going to abandon their part to assist. If something goes wrong, you fix it. End of story. No excuses. No failure. There is no room for it. No room for error. The Enemy is strong. He is motivated. And he will not take to this lightly. You all know that every single one of them is a mighty force..."

Turel suddenly plunged the dagger in to the wooden table, causing Rahab (who was seated just to the left of this) to jump a little. None of them were expecting this kind of fire from Turel, of all people! Kain only had a hidden smirk on his features. A knowing smirk. Like he was re-watching a favorite part of a favorite play.

"But we, Brothers, are mighty, also. And this is our time to prove it!"

Turel straightened up, eyes burning with rage and excitement and fear. A deadly cocktail in a vampire. More so in one trying to prove himself. The sight would have been a little more impressive if Turel were not still in the robe he wore that evening. After the initial meeting, he spend a good three hours organizing thing with Zephon and Dumah. And once they were sorted, he and Morlock spent a while trying to figure out how to move the bulk of their fighting force from the farthest point of the Empire to the Sanctuary, in less than six hours and without being seen by any Razielum scouts. Needless to say, that was an almighty head ache. But it was done. In fact, at the very moment that Turel was speaking, Morlock was moving soldiers in to position. By the time everyone was in place and advised of what was happening and the humans were where they needed to be, it was time for this very meeting. So while everyone else was dressed in their amour and with their swords and cloaks and their bows and their axes...Turel was still in his robe, with his hair half falling out of the ribbon.

"Dumah, are your men in position?" Turel turned to his closest brother, the warmth that normally radiated from Turel was long gone. And Dumah both feared and respected Turel for this. It showed on his face. The way he stood, proudly saying his piece to his Captain.

"Yes Sir. They are ready to move in when you give the word. We will not fail you, Sir!" Dumah nodded. Only sitting when Turel nodded back. Happy with what he heard.

"And the rest of you? Any failure will not go unpunished, I trust this is understood." A look was tossed in Melchiah's direction. It was met with a glare, but only for a second. The rotting, youngest brother lowered his gaze. Defeated once more. Satisfied, Turel pulled his dagger from the table, giving a quick nod to Kain, before just leaving the room. He was exhausted, he was hungry and he was about to kill the children of his eldest brother. He needed a few moments to himself. A few moments to convince himself that **HE** could do this. Bugger the rest, their part would not be an issue. He and Kain both knew that. In the end, they always pulled through...that was, at least, a comforting thought.

Upon entering his chambers, he found Leith sitting on their bed, a strong looking human male tied and gagged beside her. Her gift to him. She only smiled as she stood, walking silently across the room to greet him. No words were exchanged, as she reached behind his head and removed her ribbon. Nipping his lower lip lightly, she then moved past him and out the door, closing it behind herself. She knew him well enough to know when to leave him the hell alone.

Setting the dagger on the table, Turel walked over to the human (who was struggling like mad to escape. Or at least get loose to defend himself) slowly. The human looked to be about thirty. A good, healthy male. Possibly a husband. A father. A brother. Possibly with friends. People who will be worried at his absence. People who will cry when he is gone. As Turel mulled over this, he removed his robe and pulled on a pair of baggy pants. It was just more comfortable. That done, he sat next to the human, then did the unthinkable...he removed the gag and untied him! The human sat up, gasping, before running to the door. He may be human, but he was not stupid...well...almost.

As he ran, Turel lifted his hand toward the human, and flicked his fingers back toward himself...Turel's Dark Gift was that of Telekinesis. And boy, was he good with it. The human went flying backwards and crashed to the floor. A sickening crunch was heard as a bone broke. A howl of pain followed. Letting what little shred of humanity remained in him slip away, Turel rose from the bed and slowly stalked toward his prey. His eyes flooded with blood as his fangs grew out to a full three inches. His claws grew out, also. Shiny and sharp. Turel's breath was more ragged. Chest rising and falling in jerky motions. The animal inside of him was coming out, as he let the Blood Lust cloud his mind. Vampires are not capable of any rational thought when this happens. But sometimes it is necessary...

An hour later, Leith slipped back in to the room, Turel's Clan cloak in her arms. She smiled at the sight before her; the stone floor was slippery with blood. A few odd bits of human entrails were scattered about. Something that looked like a leg bone was near the door. She delicately stepped over all of this, kicking the torn-off head out of her bath as she made her way to the balcony, where Turel was. She found him sopping in the life-giving liquid, licking his lips in a satisfied manner. There was still a growl in his chest. He was still worked up. And this was just how it needed to be. You can do more, go harder and suffer greater if you had more adrenaline rushing through you. And they'd all need their share of adrenaline rushes by the end of this night.

Softly, Leith took Turel's arm and turned him around. Her calmness calmed him enough for him to listen to her. Enough not to attack her and tear her limb from limb like that human...or what's left of that human.

"Come, my Lord...let us get you cleaned up. They are waiting..."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer:

Feeling a little more worthy, but for some reason, I still do not own any of the below.

Thanks to my two reviewers! I have taken your advice on board. )

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Everything ran like clockwork. Turel's anal-retentive attention to details and demands for perfection were paying off. The two hundred humans were transported to Melchiah's area as the sun set. The chains they were in were purposely weak and able to be broken. The escort guards were purposely Zephonum fledglings, who could be over powered easily enough. There were only ten of them, after all. The excuse that was given to the guards was that _'everyone needs this kind of experience at some stage. We trust you'_. Obviously a lie, but a Fledgling never spoke back to an older Vampire. Let alone Zephon, who was the one who gave them this order in the first place!

As they entered the frontal courtyard of Melchiah's territory, one of the humans found that the hinge of his shackle was rusted so badly that a knock in the right place would break it. Now, this particular design of shackle was actually not used anymore. The reason being, that if one of the bolts were lifted out of place to release a prisoner, all of the bolts lifted, releasing all of the prisoners. And the human with the rusted cuffs was one of the more intelligent of his breed, so he was quick to 'stumble', knocking his shackles hard on rock on the ground. Sure enough, the hinge of the cuff broke. That was followed by the sound of rust grinding on metal as the bolt slid out of place. The man jumped up, grabbing the rock he'd broken his bonds on and hurled it at the head of the nearest Zephonum. The vampire hissed in agony as the rock cracked his skull right open. Meanwhile, the other humans found themselves free also. And within minutes, all hell had been let loose. The Zephonum were quickly disposed of, leaving the army of Melchiah to attempt to contain this threat. And for the Melchiahum, a group of two hundred angry, healthy human men was actually a threat, sad as that was.

The humans grabbed anything they could use as a weapon and quickly formed in to quite an impressive fighting force. Impressive for 'cattle' at any rate. Already, quite a few of Melchiah's troops had been taken down. Melchiah himself remained in his inner sanctuary, as ordered by Turel. He was not to emerge with is elite warriors until the Razielum had arrived. The only thing Turel had left to Fate with this plan was the element of surprise and that it would be on their side. If Raziel's second in command, Zenith, got even the slightest hint that this was anything other than what it was being made out to be, there was going to be a massive problem. Waiting with Melchiah was Ephor, with two hundred Rahabum. Rahab himself was laying in wait at the East entrance to Raziel's territory, just out of sight and down wind. Their signal to join the fray? When the screaming started...

A single Melchiahum broke away from the battle, a spear rammed through her shoulder. Half the flesh missing from her face. And not in the normal way, either. It had been torn off by a human, and due to the...weakness...of Melchiah's brood, the healing process was going to take a couple of hours. Morf (yes, she was mocked for her name) knew well enough that the nearest territory to hers was that of the Great Lord Raziel. And he was the eldest of the Lieutenants. The strongest. So it just made sense to get to him for help. She was incredibly weak, however. But she was not as alone as she thought...one of the humans saw her run off. Saw her duck through the iron gate and take off down a long tunnel. The human also knew where that tunnel led, so he grabbed a sword from the festering carcass of a Melchiahum solider, and ran after her. He'd have caught her, if it were not for interference by Turel. He and Kain had been watching everything from the high cliffs that overlooked Melchiah's area. They saw the rotting vampire break away. Then the human follow. With a sinister smirk, Turel raised his gloved claw, focusing. It was a little harder to perform his gift from such a distance, but his Lord and Master was right beside him so any form of hesitation or mistake was just not going to happen.

As the human pushed his way through the gate, he found himself confronted by a massive wall of stones. Floating in mid air. Turel was defiantly creative. The human took a couple of steps forward, only to have one of the stones go flying at his skull, making contact between his eyes. Yelping in pain, the human jumped back then turned to get back through the bars of the gate. As his back was turned, all of the stones fired at him. Hitting his head, arms, back, legs, heels, the nape of his neck. One overly large one shattered the man's elbow, but he still managed to get to the bars. As he tried to squeeze himself between them, they began to squash him until the cracking of his ribs could be heard. Blood frothed at the man's mouth for a moment, then his head fell limp. Nobody else was getting out of that gate anytime soon. Turel felt a light pat on his back. He looked over his shoulder at Kain for a moment and for once, felt a fatherly connection with the fearsome vampire. A brief smile was passed between the two, before Turel took off across the cliff tops to meet up with Morlock and his own army near the Southern entrance...Everything was running perfectly.

Morf arrived, panting and near death, at Zenith's feet not ten minutes after escaping. And that was one hell of a run for any vampire. Even the elder ones normally took at least twenty minutes at a decent pace. Zenith listened to what she had to say honestly quite shocked that any group of humans would be this brash. He and Raziel were very simular in the fact that they both had a ridiculous nobility complex. After he'd heard all that Morf had to say, Zenith ordered half of the Razielum fighting force to depart to assist their brethren. Morf made things sound far more dire than they actually were. And it wasn't planned that way, either. It was a mix of her blood loss, love of exaggeration and the fact that it really did seem like "one thousand human warriors!" At least to her it did, anyway. Once she'd said what needed to be said, she finally allowed the sweet blackness to over come her. Her body turned to an ashey husk in minutes...

Less than five minutes after Morf arrived, Zenith and his men were heading out. Moving at quite a speed, too. Even though they were laden down with weapons and armor it would not take them long at all to arrive at Melchiah's. Just as planned. On arrival to Melchiah's lands, the sight that greeted Zenith and his men was shocking. Even for a vampire; bits and pieces of humans were scattered everywhere. Blood was soaked in to the ground, making the once firm dirt a disgusting mud. A little further up, the fighting continued, however that wasn't that caught Zenith's attention. The scent of a certain Vampire Lord caused him to turn around. Behind him stood Kain. Soul Reaver in hand. Behind Kain stood almost the entire force of Dumah's army and half of Turel's. Zenith gulped. This was defiantly not what he was expecting...

It was easy for Turel to get in to Raziel's Keep. It wasn't like the Gateman was going to turn away Lord Turel. He may not have been the most optimistic of vampires, but he didn't have a death wish. Once Turel was in the gate, he used his Dark Gift to propel the Gateman from his post, right on the Morlock's waiting sword. The shocked look on the Razielum's face made Morlock's day. He pushed the corpse from his weapon and led the charge of Turelum and Zephonum in to the Keep. As half the army of Raziel was out of the Keep and the other half were unprepared, overwhelming them was a far simpler task than Turel had expected. Once the Rahabum joined them, it was more a slaughter than a battle. The fledglings were easily mowed down, while the elder vampires were easily out numbered. It was almost too easy, until Turel ran right in to Raziel's commander (one position under Zenith), Kaile. The Razielum narrowed his golden eyes, drawing twin swords from his back. There would only be one reason for a full-scale attack like this...Raziel was dead. That vengeance that Turel mentioned? This would be it...

Zenith was quick to draw his battle axe. Normally it wouldn't be much of a match against the Soul Reaver, but in Zenith's hands it could actually pose a threat. Kain insisted that he alone handle Zenith. Needless to say, nobody argued with him.

"Degenerate!" Zenith hissed, he and Kain both slowly circling. The other vampires crowded around them at the moment actually forgetting that they were meant to be tearing each other apart. "You killed my Master!" With that oh-so-obvious statement out of the way, Zenith charged at Kain, swinging the axe at Kain's stomach. Ducking out of the way, Kain landed a hard wack from the butt of the Soul Reaver on Zenith's neck, causing him to fall to his knees, dropping his axe.

"That blasphemous traitor? He begged for death..." Kain taunted. He didn't have to play this game. Zenith was down and still a little disorientated. Kain could end it now. But Kain was never known to be kind or merciful in anything that he did. Ever. He watched Zenith's face screw up in utter fury and just laughed. Kain even nudged Zenith's axe to him with his feet. Blind with rage, Zenith grabbed his axe and swung it, while he was still on the ground. It actually connected with Kain, cutting his left wrist. Only slightly. Kain licked the blood up before kicking Zenith in the face. Rolling backwards, Zenith managed to push himself to his feet, using the momentum. Once up, he moved a clawed hand to his nose, which was off centre a little. Cuts on vampires healed almost instantly, but things like broken bones took longer. Having no time for that, Zenith jerked his nose back in to place, no show of pain. He just wasn't feeling it right now. Kain took that time to come at Zenith with the Soul Reaver, ready to run him through. Very quickly, Zenith used his axe to direct the Soul Reaver's tip to the ground, allowing himself to get out of the way, however he underestimated Kain and his ability to recover from something like that. Before Zenith knew what was happening, he felt two claws rip in to his back, right through the armor and flesh. The pain was mind numbing, causing him to throw his axe down, screaming horribly. Because they were in a valley, it echoed. Kain pushed his claws in to Zenith's back harder, until he found what he was looking for; taking hold of the newly formed bones coming off Zenith's spine, Kain yanked them out. The already haunting scream got much worse, as Zenith fell to the ground. Kain dropped the bloodied bones by Zenith's face. They were nowhere near as developed as Raziel's, but the point is, they were there. Gasping for air, Zenith's blurry vision focused on the bones. The blood on them. The nerves attached. He had no idea they were even there! Nor did he know what they were for. He hadn't seen Raziel after the transformation, after all.

"They are the beginnings of wings..." Kain informed, before treading on them with his large feet. They crunched loudly. Zenith grimaced, looking away. "Looks like you're a traitor, too..." Kain murmured, sounding so satisfied. Zenith knew nothing after that. The Vampire Lord had plunged the Reaver in to his skull, ending it. There was silence all around him for a moment, before a Razielum screamed a war cry and lunged at a Turelum. Everyone soon realized what they were there for, and chaos began. Ephor and Melchiah were soon there with their men. Kain, though, had teleported himself to Raziel's keep. Time to see how Turel was doing.


End file.
